Kings College
by Faithfulpurelight
Summary: What does a sovereign do when his High King leaves for university?


**Dedicated:**_ To Everyone who supports my dreams, and never holds me back. You are my hope._

_My inspiration for this incredibly challenging and rewarding piece was Rose. I'm leaving for my own university soon, and I know it will be hard on both of us when I leave. Here is my tribute to her, and to let her know, that nothing will ever change. Edmund? I know exactly what you're going through._

I had faced my own death countless times. I had battled Ettin Giants. I had pushed Black Dwarfs, Centaurs, friends, family, and myself, far past the breaking point. I had given my life for kingdom and king. I had learned the price of knowledge, discovered how to be a good king and judge. I had become a better brother, a better friend, for my time in Narnia, the evil influencing and sculpting me along with the good. I knew what it meant to suffer, to find pain, and to live through it.

But nothing, not one experience I had ever lived through, could have prepared me for this. This horror, this terror, was worse than all of that. I would gladly have switched places with any of those adventures in exchange for what I faced now.

University.

Oxford to be specific. This awful, terrible, nightmare had dared to reach out and take the one thing that mattered to me more than life, more than air: my rock, my balance, the other half of my soul. My brother. Thanks to that place, I was losing my most precious possession. If this was how it felt when your heart was ripped out, I knew something infinitely worse.

Of course, my family was anything but understanding of my view. I had been sure that someone would see where I was coming from, would be able to help when I could do so little. Mum and Dad had been ecstatic though. Mum floated around the house as if in a dream, singing under her breath, "My boy is going to Oxford," in a way that she usually reserved for Susan when her oldest daughter had done something especially pleasing to her.

Dad kept trying to give Peter advice, (although my brother was the last person Dad needed to give advice to), and puffing his chest out in a way that let you know he was proud. I don't think he could resist the urge to call up Uncle Harold and Aunt Alberta to brag, no matter how Mum scolded him for it. Our poor cousin was probably taking the brunt of Aunt Alberta's anger, seeing as since he had changed she could barely stand to be in the same room as him. I must remember to write a letter to him in sympathy.

Susan was of absolutely no help. She was proud of our brother: after all Oxford was a prestigious university, and suddenly her ranking in the unspoken society of which she was so fond rose dramatically. The rumor that Susan Eleanor Pevensie's older brother was going to Oxford had made Susan herself extremely popular. Where before Peter's acceptance to university she had been going out to social gatherings once or twice a week, it was now the opposite. She had nothing but a long string of parties to go to. Peter had been badgered by our sister to go to these parties endlessly for a few weeks, until I had drawn her aside and put my foot down.  
_  
"Peter, is not a new handbag for you to show off. He's already boosted your popularity enough. Leave him to be with the people who will actually miss him when he leaves."  
_  
I felt bad about saying that to Susan afterwards, when she refused to talk to me unless absolutely necessary. The hurt look that had passed across her face before her anger had clouded over hadn't helped my guilt either. I supposed she probably would miss Peter when he went to Oxford. No I was sure of it, but if she would miss him so much than why did she not stay home with us instead? I had heard one of her air-headed friends twittering about how handsome Peter was -come to think of it I think she used the word _dreamy -_ and I refused to let Susan use Peter anymore.

Lucy. Sweet, cheerful, faithful, valiant Lucy, was so proud of her brother. In a similar fashion to Mum and Dad, she cheered Peter on. She was constantly the whirlwind of sunshine in our lives, and she kept Peter's mind well away from that impending date when he would leave us for any long stretch of time. But when I caught Lucy away from Mum, Dad, or Peter, I saw another side of her emotions.

She was in utter anguish to see Peter leave. We both were of the strong opinion that whenever Peter was out of sight for too long he came back injured, or was kidnaped, or almost drowned, or made several enemies in his travels. Lucy would never ask Peter to stay, but she was immensely sad that he was leaving. Only his happiness stopped her from asking, and only his obvious joy gave us the strength to feign happiness of our own.

Had I allowed Peter to see my pain, the despair, anguish, and grief that were tearing me apart, I know he would have withdrawn from Oxford without a second thought, and gotten a job in one of the stores around here. He would have been promoted to a managing position before a full week was done. But I would have never forgiven myself for destroying his dreams of university. My pain meant little compared to his visions of glory. The pain was almost crippling at times, when it tore a hole right in the center of my chest where my heart once was. I couldn't breath properly at those times, and it fell to Lucy to bring me back from panicking.

What would I do without Peter? He was my confidence, and my foundation. He understood me far more than anyone else ever had, or ever would, though Lucy and Susan came close I suppose. The four of us were a unit, one team. One family. And in that team, Peter and I had worked together even farther, plumbing the depths of trust and beyond. _Side-to-side and back-to-back._ Even now I could hear Oreius' voice in my head, repeating the advice that had become a strange sort of litany over the years in Narnia. The advice had carried over into England too, where a different battle was fought. The battle to stay inconspicuous here and still remember Narnia.

Still, Peter was enjoying the prospect of going to Oxford. That alone made Lucy and me try to keep him as busy, and happy as possible. He planned on going to the university for a degree in Medieval history. He hadn't said anything yet, but I knew he wanted to become a professor. It was fitting, and I kept imagining my brother surrounded by old dusty manuscripts deep in research, as he had been so often at the Cair.

I had done some research myself about this university when Peter had been accepted, and it turned out that they had a program for law. It made me think, and I had all ready begun planning for those years down the road. But that did not make the present any less painful.

OoOoOoOoOoO

The day dawned, and for once, it matched my mood. Rainy, dismal, and dreary, the same as I felt. Miserable. I was almost pleased that the weather coincided with my temper for once. There was usually sunshine and blue skies when something upset my siblings or me, and it was nice to see that the heavens agreed with me this time.

I busied myself with moving suitcases and trunks downstairs throughout the morning. If I was busy doing something physical, I wouldn't be able to think about the ache in my heart. Susan alone complained about the weather, moaning about how she would get wet now. I bit back the snide comment I felt forming. I didn't want to waste my energy fighting with her, especially today of all days.

"All right everyone, it's time to go take Peter to the station," Dad choked off the last part, climbing swiftly into the car. Mum followed him, her face white. It seemed as if our parents were finally realizing what we were giving up.

I watched numbly as Peter trailed after our parents, folding his exceedingly tall body into the small car. Susan brushed by me as she hurried towards the car, away from her feared rain. I could see Lucy turn to look back at Peter, sandwiched between our parents on the bench seat since she was the smallest. I forgot how to move my legs, and I stood, rooted to the cerement sidewalk as rain cascaded from the sky, drenching me.

"Edmund, come along! We're going to be late because of you!" Susan yelled, annoyance permeating every syllable. I didn't even acknowledge her as I stared at Peter in horror.

"Ed?" Peter struggled to climb over Susan as he called to me. I could hear the worry in his voice, but I couldn't get my own voice to work in order to soothe his anxiety.

I barely registered Lucy slipping out of the car until I felt her take my hand in her own. She smiled up at me in understanding, leading me towards the auto. I threw myself into the back seat, pushing myself as close to Peter as possible without actually sitting in his lap. He put his arm around my shoulders, ignoring that I was completely soaked, a silent strength passing between us.

I hoped in vain that the ride would pass as slowly as possible as Dad started the car. I felt a pit form in the bottom of my stomach as we pulled away from the curb. Lucy smiled once more before she turned around. She looked as though she was preparing herself for battle once again. I _wished_ we were going to battle instead. It was so much simpler. I leaned against Peter, a shiver running down my spine that wasn't just from the cold.

All too soon, we were lugging Peter's things into the station, towards the waiting train. I grit my teeth, forcing myself to climb the steps after my brother to stow his trunks and suitcases in a compartment somewhere along the length of the railcar. I bit my lip as we came off once more, shoving my hands into my pockets.

Dad smiled as he shook Peter's hand. "Take care, son. Drop us a line once you've gotten settled." Peter grinned back, his excitement shining through. Lucy edged closer to me in need of comfort. We both knew what was coming.

"I will, Dad. Keep everyone safe for me," Peter requested, his hand resting on Dad's shoulder briefly in a strange role reversal from a few years ago, when Dad left for the War. Dad blinked, and nodded in compliance before taking a step back, allowing Mum to surge forward. She threw her arms around Peter in a hug before stepping back to add in her own advice and well-wishes.

"Be careful, love. Have a safe trip. And remember to eat more, you're still far too thin."

Peter rolled his eyes fondly. It was something not only Mum would say, but Susan too, once upon a time. I knew he was tempted to reply with a 'Yes, Susan,' as he had when he left on some campaign, more then a lifetime ago. But instead he just smiled softly, soothing a worried mother's troubles.

"Yes, Mum, I promise I'll eat more."

She blinked back tears, gave him another quick hug, and stepped back to stand next to Dad. She clung to his arm in a similar fashion to the way Lucy gripped mine.

Susan stepped forward, her eyes free from tears. I felt a rush of anger.

"Keep safe, Peter. We wouldn't want you to get hurt while you were away. And don't you forget to write. Lion knows you forgot last time."

Her eyes twinkled, and for a moment Queen Susan the Gentle of Narnia was back, overshadowing the shallow girl that took her place.

It was perhaps the best present she could have given Peter before he left for university. Peter pulled Susan into a hug, and she buried her face in his neck. Lucy beamed proudly by my side. Something good had come out of Peter's leaving after all: Susan had come back.

Susan was the first to pull back, tears streaking silently down her face, with more brimming in her eyes.

"I promise," Peter whispered, giving her one final squeeze before he let her go. Susan smiled shakily, taking a step back towards the rest of our family. I took a step closer to her, hoping to give the comfort she might need. It didn't matter that I needed it just as badly.

Lucy sprung forward, running towards Peter's outstretched arms. He lifted her clear off the floor, and neither Mum, nor Susan had the heart to reprimand them. Lucy was crying now too, and it was a miracle that the tears that had filled in Peter's eyes hadn't fallen yet.

"Oh, do hurry," Susan whispered, and I turned toward her, wondering if she was about to break down. But she already had her mirror out, trying to repair her smudged make-up.

"What are you doing?" I asked her, seething. Was she really pretending this didn't bother her?

"Fixing my make-up obviously. I'm meeting Sarah and Annie to go shopping after we get home. I don't want to look awful. Besides, what if someone here sees me looking so unfinished? I would die of shame."

We both were keeping our voices low, trying to respect Lucy and Peter's goodbye. I felt as though someone had punched me in the stomach. Our brother was leaving for university, and she was more worried about how she looked. What happened to the queen who had bid Peter goodbye only a minute or so ago? Was she really able to cast aside the Gentle that easily? I felt sick.

"Peter is leaving, Susan! He isn't coming _home_ with us, and you're worried about your vapid friends and what people think of your face?" I was incredulous and hurt. "Don't you care?" I questioned her again, somewhat brokenly this time.

Susan bristled. "Edmund, appearances are important here. Of course I care, but honestly it isn't as if he was leaving for good! He's coming home. You'll survive," she finished coldly.

I flinched as though I had been struck. "You know, your turning into a real witch, Su."

"And how would you know that?" she asked, her tone chilling.

"I think I would know, don't you?" I gestured towards my stomach where I carried the scar that served as a reminder of past deeds. Susan went pale, but said nothing, turning away from me.

I resisted the urge to shake her. The Susan that Lucy, Peter, and I knew was far away, and physical violence wasn't going to bring her back.

"And you had better write!"

Lucy stepped away from Peter with a final threat. I saw Mum and Dad exchange grins. They thought that it was funny that we all threatened our bother with harm if he didn't write a letter to us. But they didn't understand Peter's bad luck. If he left our sight, he was in potential danger, Susan had once said. I completely agreed.

I bit my lip harder, trying not to cry as Peter turned to look at me. But I didn't say anything, nor did I look up. I could feel his gaze on the top of my head, and I kept my eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

"Ed?"

A whistle blew in warning, leaving us little time for goodbyes. I bit my lip until I tasted blood.

"Eddie?"

My head snapped up, and we smacked foreheads. I hadn't realized he had bent closer, and he had most likely forgotten that I was prone to quick movements, especially when I was upset. He smiled ruefully.

"Sorry, Edmund. I forgot."

I nodded, unable to look back down at the floor. We stared at each other, the moments ticking by. There was so much I wanted to tell him, ('don't go', at the top of the list) and I didn't have the time now. Why couldn't I be eloquent now, when I needed to be? I felt sufficiently tongue-tied.

Peter grabbed me into a hug, crushing me to him, much as we had done in Narnia. I hugged him tightly, wishing I could stop time. Another warning blew.

"I promise to come home as often as I can. Every chance I get, as a matter of fact. Nothing will change. I promise, Ed. I swear it by the Lion's mane. And I'll stay safe if it makes you feel any better. I'll even write to you. I swear," Peter whispered, trying to make me believe him. I nodded.

"I love you," he whispered, letting go as the train started to move. He stepped onboard the railcar, holding the railing before the train picked up speed.

"I love you, too," I said, hoping he heard me over the engine.

With a final wave Peter disappeared into the train, losing himself in the throng.

"Bye, Peter," I repeated.  
_  
Aslan keep him safe.  
_  
I watched were the train disappeared long after it had left. Lucy took my hand again, leading me towards the car, and an empty house.

I knew I was going to Oxford now. There was no way I could go anywhere else. There was just one problem though.

Three years could not pass fast enough.


End file.
